Dancing... Dancing.. YEAH! She's a dancing machine.

So, my friends David and Natalie are moving to New York. Tonight, a party was thrown to "send them off". It started enjoyably enough. Great food. Great drink (Homeade Sangria). Everyone chatting. I arrived fashionably late at about 8:45pm. Now, back at my own homestead, i see it is now 2:55am. The moral of the evening: Dancing brings the world together. Both Natalie and David have mean dancing streaks in them. So, as the partygoers thinned, the few that stood the test of time were handsomely rewarded with the blessing of the dance party. Around 10 or 11, Nat busted out the dance mix she had prepared on her ipod. It was a mix so totally bitching that I literally took notes on a postcard to download those songs when i got home. As my throbbing feet and calves (yes. i kept the high heels on through the whole dance party.) clearly understand, I've been dancing...and i mean DANCING for about 4 hours. At one point, about 8 or 10 women and usually about 1 guy (this was almost always David or Dawson) were giving their all on that floor. We even went Soul Train style for 3 or 4 songs; coining such dances as "The Blazer", "The Cowboy", a few indescribable moves Butterfly pulled out and "The Scarf". After cutting a rug with the same group for 4 hours, you have a certain unspoken bond. Strangers become friends on the dance floor, folks. It's true. I loved that at the end of the dance marathon, I introduced myself (or was introduced to) at least half of the same people I had been sweating to the oldies with for the entire night.

To hell with introductions. We have dancing shoes.